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04-30-2014, 10:11 PM
Delsolea
Delsolea’s peace was soon interrupted, the presence of another engaging her senses and causing her to pop her head around with eyes narrowed – this time, not scrutinising. There was suspicion laced in every facet of her body language, from her ears laying back on her head to her muscles tensing. Experience had taught her a harsh lesson when she was years younger, and now she was more careful in how she greeted strangers. She gave them the cold shoulder – and nothing was different now, as this painted mare appeared before her with a greeting and gentle words.
As far as she was concerned, words were wind. Nothing more – deeds were different.
The maroon woman lifted her head back and squared her stance, opening her wings a fraction to make her slender frame appear larger. Her nostrils flared wide as she inhaled the new scent of the stranger, this Abishia, and yet Delsolea did not respond right away when the other had stopped speaking.
At least she offered information, and in turn, all she could do was be polite without inviting anything further.
“Thanks for the welcome then, I guess. I’m Delsolea,” she said, her voice not entirely cold but nothing really friendly about it. Those who presented as so friendly and lovely to her face made her all the more weary.
“Your scent is one I smelt before. I take it you lurk here a lot,” she says, attempting to bridge the gap but knowing for now, it was all she could do. With cold green eyes, Delsolea continued to watch her – always watching for a threat, a signal of something more sinister.
As far as she was concerned, words were wind. Nothing more – deeds were different.
The maroon woman lifted her head back and squared her stance, opening her wings a fraction to make her slender frame appear larger. Her nostrils flared wide as she inhaled the new scent of the stranger, this Abishia, and yet Delsolea did not respond right away when the other had stopped speaking.
At least she offered information, and in turn, all she could do was be polite without inviting anything further.
“Thanks for the welcome then, I guess. I’m Delsolea,” she said, her voice not entirely cold but nothing really friendly about it. Those who presented as so friendly and lovely to her face made her all the more weary.
“Your scent is one I smelt before. I take it you lurk here a lot,” she says, attempting to bridge the gap but knowing for now, it was all she could do. With cold green eyes, Delsolea continued to watch her – always watching for a threat, a signal of something more sinister.
@[Abishia]
